queen-mother, would ofttimes dress her little son in
costly garments and lead him by the hand before the proud, strong
men-at-arms who stood before the castle walls. Nought had they but
smiles and gentle words for their little Prince.

When he grew older, Siegfried would ride into the country, yet always
would he be attended by King Siegmund's most trusted warriors.

Then one day armed men entered the Netherlands, the country over which
King Siegmund ruled, and the little Prince was sent away from the
castle, lest by any evil chance he should fall into the hands of the
foe.

Siegfried was hidden away safe in the thickets of a great forest, and
dwelt there under the care of a blacksmith, named Mimer.

Mimer was a dwarf, belonging to a strange race of little folk called
Nibelungs. The Nibelungs lived for the most part in a dark little town
beneath the ground. Nibelheim was the name of this little town and
many of the tiny men who dwelt there were smiths. All the livelong day
they would hammer on their little anvils, but all through the long
night they would dance and play with tiny little Nibelung women.

It was not in the little dark town of Nibelheim that Mimer had his
forge, but under the trees of the great forest to which Siegfried had
been sent.

As Mimer or his pupils wielded their tools the wild beasts would start
from their lair, and the swift birds would wing their flight through
the mazes of the wood, lest danger lay in those heavy, resounding
strokes.

But Siegfried, the hero-boy, would laugh for glee, and seizing the
heaviest hammer he could see he would swing it with such force upon
the anvil that it would be splintered into a thousand pieces.

Then Mimer the blacksmith would scold the lad, who was now the
strongest of all the lads under his care; but little heeding his
rebukes, Siegfried would fling himself merrily out of the smithy and
hasten with great strides into the gladsome wood. For now the Prince
was growing a big lad, and his strength was even as the strength of
ten.

To-day Siegfried was in a merry mood. He would repay Mimer's rebukes
in right good fashion. He would frighten the little blacksmith dwarf
until he was forced to cry for mercy.

Clad in his forest dress of deerskins, with his hair as burnished gold
blowing around his shoulders, Siegfried wandered away into the depths
of the woodland.

There he seized the silver horn which hung from his girdle and raised
it to his lips. A